


Maze Runner- Little Sister

by daydreamer30035



Category: The Maze Runner Series - All Media Types, The Maze Runner Series - James Dashner
Genre: Action, Adventure, Gen, Siblings
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-01-09
Updated: 2021-01-09
Packaged: 2021-03-13 17:00:09
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 9
Words: 7,619
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28656864
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/daydreamer30035/pseuds/daydreamer30035
Summary: Emily is the first girl to be sent up in the box. She struggles to fit in with the boys. She is the youngest one there and is sick of them treating her like a baby, like an annoying little sister. Yet things start to change when a boy even younger than her shows up.
Kudos: 3





	1. Chapter 1

I wake to the sound of metal on metal. So loud that it hurt my ears. The air cool and ominous. I try to stand, but the ground shakes and I fall down on my knees. So instead I crawl until my hand finds the wall. I follow it until I find the place where two meet. With my back pressed up against the cold metal wall, I bury my head into my knees. My breaths start coming out fast and shallow. Not long afterwards my eyes burn with tears. When I blink I can feel them sliding down my face. Warm and salty. 

  
I scream. Not because I think that someone would come and help me (I'm in a giant, metal box, who would hear me?) No, I scream because I'm scared. I'm alone and my knees hurt from where I fell on them. Screaming won't help, I know that. But it feels good.

  
_Okay, okay. I need to calm down._ _If I panic, then I won't get anywhere. But where am I going?_ The thought sends a new wave of fear over me. My head fills with questions. Where am I? Why am I here? How did I get here? 

  
The last thought pulls me up short. I can't remember how I got here. I can't remember anything. Racking my brain for anything information of who I am, my head starts to hurt from all the stress. I can picture countries; animals; food, but not once can I seem to match a face with a name. 

  
Emily. My name is Emily. It feels weird on my tongue though. No last name, or why that's my name. I can't even remember my parents, not even the slightest thing. Why? How is this possible? 

  
I scream again, and bury my head into my hands; overwhelmed by the whole ordeal. 

  
Suddenly the weird metal box makes an ear piercing shriek and stops. My hands go up to cover my ears and I scoot further into the corner. A scraping sound fills the air; a blinding light streams down from above. 

  
I duck my head, closing my eyes. After being so long in the dark, it takes my eyes a moment to adjust. Even after they do, I keep my head buried. Voices rang out. Loud and intimidating.

  
"How old is this one?"

  
"Think he'll be a slopper?"

  
"Ya, then he can keep you company!" Commotion starts up after the last comment. Their words confused me. What was a slopper? And they kept saying he, I was pretty sure that I was very much a girl.

  
"Hey! You shanks break it up!" The fighting stopped, was he their leader?

  
A shadow's cast over the box. A voice with a strange accent calls out. His voice filled with urgency and confusion. "Alby! You need to check this out!"

  
"What Newt?" The boy, Alby, sounds irritated. 

  
"Just come here!"

  
A sigh and then another shadow peers over the box. "What the-"

  
His shadow quickly disappears and he starts shouting out orders. Telling them to get back or something. It was hard to hear. Afterwards he comes back to the other boy.  
They talk about something in low voices and then they fall silent. The ground shakes and my head shoots up out of my hands.

  
The two boys are a about five feet in front of me. One of them had dark skinned with muscles bulging under his shirt. The other was slightly taller with dirty blond hair. Both of their arms were crossed and they look huge with me crouched down. The blond one looked over at the dark skinned one. A question in his eyes. Sighing, he knelt down (he was still quite taller than me though). When he spoke his words were quiet, nervous, like he was afraid of frightening me. _Too late for that._

  
"Hi there Greenie. My name's Newt, and this here," He swept his arms in indication of the area above us. "Is the Glade. It's our home, and it's your now too."


	2. Chapter 2

The glade. That's what this guy called this place.

  
"Why?" The word is out of my mouth before I can even think to stop it.

  
The guy looks puzzled. He looks over his shoulder at his friend. His friend only shrugs though, just as unsure as he is. have they never been asked this before? The looks on their faces seems to say so. It's his friend who answers, "Look, we aren't sure why. We just showed up here one day and thought it was a good name for it."

  
"You just showed up here? Like me, or did you somehow magically appear out of thin air?"

  
The kid groan and mutters something under his breath that sounded something like, 'gosh not another Minho." Whatever that was supposed to mean.

  
"Here," its the dark skinned boy this time. "Why don't we do introductions? My names Alby. I'm the leader here. That over there is Newt, he's second in command. You listen to him when I'm not around, understand?" I nod. "Good that. Alright, now wha-"

  
"Why can't I remember anything?" My words are harsh and I feel bad for interrupting him but this is important.

  
He sighs. "I don't know. When we all came here none of us could remember. All we can remember is our names. Now if you would just shut up and listen we can get on to this shitty day."

  
I shrink back into my corner. Newt noticing, places his hand on Alby's shoulder. "Alby calm down. The bloody girl is scared out of her mind and you're not exactly helping." He scowls at him and Newt returns it before turning to me. "I'm sorry for that. I'm Newt like Alby said. What's your name?"

  
"Emily," and I curse at how small it sounds.

  
"Emily," he repeats. "Well, welcome to the glade Emily."  
\--------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

I sit with my back against a tree. The bark scraped my skin but I didn't notice. My mind was still spinning from today's events. After I had gotten out of the box, Alby gave me a tour of the glade. Pointing out different keepers for different jobs. He told me that I'd be going through a training course until they found out what I was good at. Tomorrow I'm to meet the Keeper of the Slicers, Winston. Apparently all newbies start off there.

  
I sigh and lean my head back against the tree trunk. The sky was a beautiful mix of pinks and purples. Night was falling, quickly. I wonder if the stars would be out tonight. Do I like stars? I don't know. Just add that to the list of things I can't figure out.

  
A grinding sound suddenly pulls me out of my thoughts. It sounds like the box, but ten times louder. Echoing inside the glade walls. What is going on?

  
My hands clamp over ears, but the noise still gets through. Looking around at the other kids, I see that none of them seem to notice. Sure some have their hands over their ears like me, but they keep working. Like this is a normal thing.

  
The noise stops suddenly, but my ears still ring. My eyes dart around trying to figure out what the source. That's when I see it. The walls. Each one had a doorway in the middle, four in total. They were gone now. I don't know how, but somehow the walls moved. Locking us in. I really am trapped here.


	3. Chapter 3

My back hurts. So does my head. My back from laying in this makeshift sleeping bag, and my head from all this useless information. 

  
I look up at the stars. Half the view is blocked by trees, but I don't mind. All I really want to do is sleep. If I sleep then I can escape this nightmare of a reality. Almost as if summoned by the thought, my eyelids start to grow heavy. In no time I'm drifting into the realm of dreams.

  
_There's a child sleeping. A little girl hold him in her arms, smiling down. Next to her, a woman prepares a meager meal. Their mom. The girl looks up, asking her mother a question. She responds, and the girl laughs. A smile plays across the mom's face, not reaching her eyes._

  
_There is a knock on the door. They both freeze. It comes again, louder this time. The woman leans down, whispering something into her child's ear. The girl nods, clearly afraid._   
_The knock sounds for a third time, and the little girl rushes into a closet, still holding her younger brother. The door closes, locking them in total darkness. She hugs her brother closer to her._

  
_Voices come in through the closed door. Her mother's voice, and two more that she doesn't recognize. Their voices are muffled, hard to make out. She is able to catch a few of the words though._ _"Two weeks.....W.I.C.K.E.D......safety......children" It's a man's voice._

  
_"Not here......father gone......please." This time the one to speak is her mother. Her voice is filled with fear. Her throat closes at the mention of her father. Dad hadn't been home for a week. Mama said he was sick._

  
_"Liar."_

  
_A bang. A scream. Crashing and glass shattering. What was going on?_

_The girl's brother started to wake from the noise. She rocked him, trying to get him to quiet down. The closet door shot open._ _Two men stared down at her. Where was mama? She clung to her brother, cowering under the men's gaze._

  
_"Follow us." His voice was low, even. She shook her head. "Now."_

  
_Reluctantly she stood up. Her brother was fully awake now. She set him down, holding his hand. Together the walked with the two men to the door of their dingy apartment. They'd had to move after Dad lost his job. Mama said it was only temporary ._

_The girl slipped on something. She fell, but caught herself with her hands. They felt warm, and when she looked down, they were covered in red. Blood. Looking around, the girl noticed that the entire hallway was covered in it._ _A few feet away, her mother was laying in the middle of some of it. She must have slipped too. Only when the girl tried to help her mom up, one of the men grabbed her. She screamed, trying to get away._

  
_He sighed. "Get the other one," he told his partner. "We're already behind scheduled."_

  
_The other man picked up her brother, and carried them away from their home. The girl still caked in the blood that littered the floor._

  
I woke up crying.


	4. Chapter 4

The sound of squealing pigs can do wonders to a headache, only not in the best of ways. 

  
Winston narrates as he goes. How to grab the pig. How to kill the pig. How to cut the meat of the pig. It's all quite simple, but most of it goes over my head.  
My dream from last night was bugging me so bad. I wanted, _needed_ , to tell someone, but that would probably only end up making things worse. I don't need anyone here thinking I'm some silly girl afraid of her own shadow. 

  
"Emily?" It's Winston.

  
"Huh, sorry. Zoned out for second." I'm still not used to the way my voice sounds. Too high pitched compared to all of the boys' here. Not recognizing my own voice screams all kinds of wrong to me, yet here I am.

  
"I said it's your turn."

I look over at pig pin. The smokehouse is horrible, but all the newbies start out here. If everyone else here has done this than so can I. Sighing I walk over and grab the smallest pig of the bunch. It screams, sending a new wave of pain to my head.

Holding it by the scruff of the neck, I use the rope Winston showed me to tie it to a makeshift table. Taking the knife, I press down into the skin. After awhile the pig stops moving. Winston has a look of some sort of respect on his face. I, on the other hand, am doing my best to not gag. I must say, I don't a pretty good job at that.

  
Steadying the knife, I start to cut the meat away from the bones. Nothing too big. Just small easy chunks. Even then that kind of difficult as the blood runs down and cakes my hands and wrists. I think that's what sets me off. I was fine. Now I can't breath. I'm shaking. Tears start streaming down my face without my permission, and I have to clamp my hands over my mouth to keep from screaming. I sink to the floor.

  
A hand comes down on my shoulder, and I flinch, hard. Through blurry eyes I can see Winston crouching down beside me. At first he just looks at me, shaking with hysteria, sitting in a pile of pig's blood that I was covered in. Oh, not to mention that there was most likely some on my face from my hands as well. Finally he sighed. Pity written on his face, but I couldn't care less at this point. 

  
"Can you stand?" It takes me awhile to register what he just said. I open my mouth to say _yes_ , but my throat closes and my body is racked with a sob. So instead, Winston crouches down and picks me up bridal style. I'm tiny in his arms, probably weighing less than some of the pigs he has to deal with.

He carries me across the Glade to the Homestead. I remember Alby saying something about this being where the Med-Jacks worked. The Gladers' version of doctors.

"Jeff? Where are you?" Winston calls out.

  
"Over by the bandages!" Another boy walks out from behind a corner with two other people. "Newt and Al-" They stop cold when they see me in Winston's arms.

Jeff is the first one to regain his senses. He runs over and motions for Winston to set my down in one of the homemade hospital beds. Grabbing water and a rag, he starts clearing away the blood that stains my skin.

  
"What the hell happened?" Alby demands.

  
Winston looks away, face flushed. "I don't know. She was fine, then all of a sudden she starts freaking out. Didn't know what to do. Figured one of the Med-Jacks would know."

  
"Hold on, wait," Newt interjects. "You mean to tell me she was working in the Smokehouse?" Winston nodded. Then Newt explodes. "What where you thinking you bloody idiot! You can't just have her do stuff like that on her second day!"

Winston looks taken aback. I guess not a lot of people get yelled at by Newt. Even me, who barley knew him, found it unnatural.

  
"Newt, lay off him. It was me who told him to have her work there." 

  
Newt rounded on Alby. "You?"

  
"Easy Newt! I'm just trying to keep things as normal as possible here! How am I supposed to know this would happen?"

  
"Because Alby, she's a bloody girl! We've never had that before, not to mention she's the youngest one here. You can't expect her to react to everything the same way!" His words catch me off guard. 

  
I pull away from Jeff, who was looking quite re-leaved to find out that none of the blood on me is actually mine. He protests, but stops when I speak. "What do you mean I'm the youngest one here?" They stop bickering at my voice. I got the feeling they'd forgotten that I was in the same room. I repeat my question. None of them meet my eyes, even Jeff sitting right next to me. "Alby," my voice wavering. "How old am I?"

  
I'd never thought to ask the question before. I knew that I had long, slightly curly, dark, brown hair from what I could see of it, but I never did ask about my age. Everyone here looked around fifteen to nineteen. I guess I'd kind of just lumped myself as somewhere between there. Besides, if I didn't know my own age, how could they?

  
"We don't exactly know for sure kid," I frown at the choice of words. "I mean it's not like any of us has got your birth certificate, but judging by looks-" He trails off.

  
Newt finishes for him. "What Alby is trying to say, is that you look to be about fourteen, maybe thirteen."

  
My breath catches in my chest, squeezing it painfully. _No_.


	5. Chapter 5

"Thirteen?" 

  
It's not real. None of this is, just some crazy hallucination. Or another nightmare. 

  
"Maybe fourteen? We don't know Emmy," Newt says. "All of this, it's all new. We're just trying to make sense of this mess."

  
Right, mess. I'm some mix up in whatever is going on. The only girl in a glade full of boys. The only one here who is barely even a teenager. Now it makes sense that everyone here treats me like some sort of breakable object. Even Gally who I'm told can be a huge jerk. To them I'm practically a kid.

  
I nod, still trying to process the information. They've gone back to their argument, but I can't hear them. Everything seems muffled and unreal.

I can't be thirteen. I don't feel thirteen. Fourteen maybe? Even that seems too young. I'm mature, I know that much. Much more mature than a thirteen year old. Why? Why, why, why? They're wrong. I have to be older. I feel as though I might cry. Quickly I shove the feeling away. Crying won't help, only reinforce their belief that I'm some little kid.

Jeff says something and I snap out of my thoughts. I'd forgotten that he was sitting right next to me. "So, what? Your just going to have her not do any jobs?"

The idea is so outrageous I speak up again. "No. I don't care how old you think I am, I'm going to help out here. That's final." I say to Newt, who looked like he was about to protest.

"I agree." I let out a small sigh of relief at Alby's words. "We can't have anyone slacking off. That's not how we do things around here."

"Alby she is thirteen!"

I cut Newt off. "Fourteen." I will be as old as I can here. The Glade is no place for someone so young.

"Fourteen," Newt repeats. "Still, you can't be serious!"

  
Alby looks ready to explode but luckily Winston cut in. "How about this, she still does the job trials. Only she skips certain ones. Smokehouse, Baggers, maybe Builders." I want to protest and say I can do those jobs too, but Alby nods in agreement. 

  
"That sounds fair enough. Newt?"

  
"Fine," he says reluctantly. "But where does she go now?"

  
"Track-hoes?" Jeff suggests. They all mummer in agreement. Alby looks to me, and I feel a rush of appreciation towards him. Out of everyone here, he's the only one not treating me like some annoying little sister. 

  
"Okay," I mutter. "But I want to try Builder."

  
Newt looks as though he wants to protest, but Alby nods. "It's settled then. Tomorrow go meet Zart by the gardens. I'll fill him in on what's going on tonight." With that, they all left. Jeff gave me clean clothes and told me take the rest of the day off. So I just wandered around until dinner. 

  
All the boys complained about Frypan's cooking, but I personally liked it. I think they did too. Anyway, dinner was grilled cheese. It was warm and the cheese melted in my mouth with every bite. Perfect.

  
Alby and Newt sat together with some other Asian kid. I really didn't feel like joining them, so I ate under one of the trees at the edge of the Deadheads. It was a weird name for a forest, but then again most of the names were weird here. I didn't question it. Alby wasn't one for answering things that didn't really matter. 

  
I looked up at the sky. The sun was never visible here. I wonder why? Even still, the sky was painted pink and purple. I ended up falling asleep under the tree; waking up with dirt and leaves stuck in my hair.


	6. Chapter 6

"Where do you want these Clint?" 

  
"Put em' over by the bandages!" He yells back.

  
I was helping unload and organize the supplies from the Box. This week I was training with Jeff and Clint for the Med-Jacks. This was my last job rotation. So far we haven't found anything that I'm particularly good at.

  
I had bombed every other job I had been given. Track-hoe, can't tell the difference between a weed and a plant (also tripped over the shovel and ended up in the infirmary); Builder, dropped a hammer on my foot (infirmary again); the kitchen was going well until the last day where I accidentally started a fire. ( _That_ one sent two other boys to the infirmary with me).

  
I practically lived in the infirmary by now. Newt was going insane worrying that I was going to get myself killed. Alby had to constantly remind him that I would be fine. Clint and Jeff where used it by now. Everyone else just kind of steered clear of me. It was still kind of weird being the only girl.

  
"How many Griever serums did we get this week?" asks Jeff when he sees me with the box.

  
"Four," I reply. Alby had explained about the maze and Grievers. I had yet to witness someone getting stung. Newt didn't know that I knew, though. He was way to overprotective which was annoying. Alby constantly told him to lay off.

  
"Think we'll need that much?" Jeff joked.

"Hope not," joking right back. It was nice to have someone to consider a friend. Alby was always busy. Newt was too smothering. Clint and Jeff where the fun older brothers in a way.

  
One of the Slicers walks in, blood covering his left arm. Jeff sighs and starts towards him, but I shoot him a look saying I got this. He looks confused but goes back to putting the washcloths away.

  
"What happened this time?" I ask, grabbing bandages and wetting a washcloth. I'd seen Jeff and Clint do this enough to know what to do. It also helped that I was also always having this happen to me.

  
"One of the knives slipped." He looks confused as to why I'm the one cleaning him up, but he stays quiet. Smart.

  
I stifle a laugh. You would think that the people who handle knives all day would know how to use them without getting cut. Fortunately for this Slicer, the cut isn't deep. A surface wound. Once I'm finished wiping all the blood away, I put gaze over it. I tell him to apply pressure to it as I get the bandages ready. His arm is wrapped and ready to go within five minutes. I start cleaning up the mess.

  
When I turn back around to finish helping Jeff up supplies away, Alby is there. I didn't hear him come in. Both boys are staring at me. "What?" My hand instinctively goes to tuck my hair behind my ear. A nervous tick I found I do when I'm uncomfortable or stressed. 

  
Alby just shakes his head and turns to Jeff. "Looks like you and Clint are finally getting some help around here."

  
"Sure does," Jeff replies with a grin on his face.

  
I'm shocked. "You mean-"

  
"Yeah. I'll have to check with Clint, but I'm pretty sure we just found out what job you're cut out for." With that, Alby walks out. Probably to go find Clint and tell him the news.  
Jeff smirks at me.

"Well, come on lazy. These boxes won't unpack themselves!" He tosses a roll of gaze at me.

  
I'm still smiling by dinner. I'm a Med-Jack.


	7. Chapter 7

It has been about two months since I've arrived at the Glade. This means that we'd has two Greenies. Abe and Alex. Both ended up being Track-hoes. None of the boys really talk to me. Sure, I knew most of them, working in the infirmary and all that, but none personally. Only Newt, Alby, Jeff, Clint, and Frypan hung out with me. Oh, and their friend Minho, one of Newt's Runners. Even then I often feel weird around them. They all easily had 2-3 years on me. 

  
My age still bothered me. I was considerably shorter than all the boys. I had to tilt my head if I wanted to look most of them in the eyes. By the end of the day my neck was always killing me. I'd started a bad habit of staring at the floor. I tried to stop, it would only make me seem smaller.

  
The others said it didn't matter, but it did. I saw how they all watched me whenever they didn't think I was looking. Pity and worry seemed to be constantly in their eyes. Uncertainty too. I am still the only girl here. 

  
It was almost dinner time. The smell of Frypan's cooking hung in the air, making my mouth water. I was cleaning up the upstairs of the Homestead where the infirmary. It had been a busy day. Three Slicers, one of the cooks who got burned, and somehow four Builders. At this rate we'd be out of gaze and bandages before the next load comes up in the box.

  
I'm so lost in thought that I almost miss the shouting coming from outside. I set down the bowl I was washing and hurry out. Curiosity filling everything inside of me. What I saw made me wish I had stayed inside though.

  
Alby was dragging an unconscious Newt. His ankle bent at an unnatural angle. Alby shouted for Jeff and Clint. Out of the corner of my eye, I saw them rush over and help. They helped carry the older boy inside. I made to follow, but Alby stopped me. "Not you. Jeff and Clint got this one."

  
I stared up at him, flabbergasted. "I can help too Alby!"

  
He shook his head. "No. This isn't up for discussion Emily." He started for the door. "Go. You can sit with Minho at dinner." With that, he slipped into the Homestead. Slamming the door in my face. 

  
I was shocked. Alby, the one person here who never belittled me, just told me not to do my job. Great! One of the only people in the Glade who will talks to me in hurt, and I am not allowed to help. Something that I have been _trained_ to do! 

  
Sure Newt could be annoyingly overprotective. Always hovering over me whenever he wasn't out running the maze, but he was still one of the few people here who I might consider a friends here. It wasn't right for me to not be allowed to help!

  
Yelling in frustration, I spun on my heel and marched to the kitchens. I rarely had any free time, and with Newt hurt, my hands itched to do something useful. Maybe Frypan will let me help with dinner. He let help cook sometimes if I wasn't needed at the infirmary. As long as I didn't start any more fires.

  
"Hey Fry." I called when I got there. Flopping stomach down on top of one of the tables.

  
"What's up Em?" chuckling at my antics. I liked Frypan. He'll give me a sample of whatever is cooking sometimes. Apparently I wasn't the first to start a fire in his kitchen, however I was the first to come back and apologize. Once he even let me pick the menu for lunch. 

  
"Newt is hurt and they won't let me help. Literally! Alby kicked me out!" my voice is muffled under the wood.

  
He sighs. "I'm sure Newt will be fine. He's tough." I roll me eyes. Frypan can't see, but somehow he knows. "Seriously. Alby can be dramatic sometimes. I'm sure it's nothing."

  
"But what if you're wrong? What if he is really hurt and dies? What if I was in there and stopped it?"

  
He laughs. "You and your imagination."

  
I grunt. Another thing that sets me apart here. I seem to be the only one with an imagination. When I first got here, I made the mistake of trying to tell Alby a story. He avoided me for a week afterwards. Now I keep my mouth shut about those types of things, doesn't mean my head still swims with it though.

  
Frypan throws a rag at me, jogging me from my thoughts. "Hey, if your going to be here, your going to help."

  
Groaning, I push myself up and start doing the dirty dishes. Fry's right. I'm over reacting. Newt will be fine. I almost convince myself that that is the truth.

  
 *****************************  
At dinner, I go sit by Minho. I'm not super close to him, but close enough to be able to hold a good conversation. When he sees me, he waves me over. I'm re-leaved that he's in a good mood. Minho was okay and all, but if he's in a mood, than it's best to stay out.

  
"What up Emmy?" 

  
"The sky," I'd developed a bit of a mouth around Minho, much to Newt's annoyance.

  
He laughs. "Girly if you're going to be sassy, then you better use some more original stuff."

  
"You're one to talk." He pushes me off the bench. Something he never would do if Newt was present. I can't help but laugh along with him. It feels nice to joke around with him after such a stressful day. I get up off the ground and sit back down. "Shank." That gets him laughing again.

  
We eat in silence for a little bit, before I finally say what's weighing on my mind. "Did you hear about Newt?"  
His head snaps up at that. Him and Newt are close. "No. Why? What happened?"

  
"I don't know. Alby showed up right before dinner carrying him. He looked hurt. They kicked me out of the infirmary. Wouldn't let me help."

  
Minho jumps up, muttering curses under his breath. His dinner forgotten, he runs over to the Homestead. I don't even bother to follow. Alby will just kick me out again.

  
I finish my dinner by myself, ignoring the stares from some of the other Gladers. Today has been a piece of klunk. Thoughts swarm my mind. That night I dream of people dying all around me, while some strange force holds me captive. Unable to help.

  
When I see Newt the next day, he has a limp. He goes to work in the gardens; and Minho takes his place as Keeper of the Runners.


	8. Chapter 8

I had this spot that I would go to when the Glade got to be a little much. It was tucked away in the Deadheads, near the wall corner that trapped us here. Trees surrounded the small patch of grass that was softer than normal. Ivy hung down off the maze walls. It was my own personal safe haven.

  
I'd found it a few days after coming up in the box. I didn't go there often, but after Newt had his accident, I found myself falling asleep here more often than not. The few kids who noticed my absence at night never said anything. I was grateful.

  
Tonight I found myself laying on my back. My hands running back and forth over the wet, dewy grass. My blanket was pushed up against the wall, forgotten. I had finally accepted defeat and brought it after days of thinking it over. I couldn't even remember the last time I spent the night in the spot I had originally been assigned to anyway.

  
The stars were bright tonight. I was able to connect a few of them, making pictures in the sky. _Constellations_. That was what they are called. The Big Dipper and Orion are more commonly known. Star signs were once used to predict the future. Aries, Pisces, Cancer, ect. Based off of the day you were born. What was my star sign? My spotty memory deemed the knowledge of stars and their meaning useful, but not my own day of birth. Not that it matters. We don't keep track of certain months here. Much less birthdays. It would still be a nice thing to know.

  
I sighed and sat up. Grass and leaves stick in my hair. I don't bother to brush them out. Tomorrow's problem.

  
Sleep does not want me. I've given up trying. Nightmares plague my mind at night. I still haven't told anyone. I'm different enough without adding an insanely, creepy imagination. Alby and Newt have enough on their plate. They don't need the stress of a child on top of that. I don't need a babysitter.

  
Standing up, I go over to my blanket. I'd wrapped some of the few things I had inside. After taking them out and laying the blanket down, I turned my attention back to the items. An apple that took an hour of scrubbing dishes to get, a change of clothes, a hairbrush, and a marker. 

  
I don't know why I have the marker. Why I feel as though it is important to me. Minho had had it in his hand at dinner tonight. I asked where he got it. He seemed surprised that he had it, like he had forgotten he was holding it. Minho shrugged. Afterwards, when we were finished, I noticed he left it on the table. Looking around to make sure no one was paying attention, I pocketed it. I felt kind of bad for stealing it, but it was just a marker, right? Minho didn't even notice it was missing.

  
Now, staring at it in the dark, I tried to recall why I even wanted it. It was nothing special. A black, Crayola washable marker. Not even new. 

  
Maybe I should give it back. But then I'd have to admit that I took it. I didn't fit in with the boys as it was, I couldn't afford to do anything that could risk our rocky relationship. Some of the other Gladers would send me back down in the Box if it was possible. Best to keep a low profile here.

  
Annoyed by how much stress the stupid thing was causing me, I raised me arm and threw it as hard as I could. It slammed into the maze wall, the ivy muffled any sound it might have made. 

  
I froze. An idea taking form in my mind, becoming clearer and clearer as I got closer to the wall. I pushed the ivy away and placed my hand on the solid, hard, grey, concrete. This could work. Stepping away, I let the ivy fall back into place. Any sign that it had been moved was gone. Perfect. 

  
Turning around, I set to work on finding the black marker.


	9. Chapter 9

The day he came to the Glade, was like every other. He came up in the Box on the right day. There was absolutely nothing extraordinary about him, or that day. And yet, there was. There was something about that day, that changed everything. I just didn't know it at the time.  
 *** * * * * ***

  
I was making space for the new supplies. The Box was due at any moment, and if I wanted the medical tools organized the way I liked, then I needed to be the one to do so- as annoying and time consuming as it was.

  
Soon after the alarm that signaled the arrival of the Box, I could hear the sound of scrapping doors. Shouts filled the air, but I brushed them off. The rest of the Gladers tend to get over excited with Greenies. Personally, I didn't like it whenever we got new people. Always boys. Always someone older than me. The Greenies didn't seem to really like me either. They stared at me, whispered questions to the other Gladers. It was pretty apparent to even them that I was different from everyone else here.

  
I heard footsteps coming up behind me. Newt's. That's weird, normally he helps Alby give the tour.

  
"Hey Newt," I say without turning around. I could hear him panting behind me. "So, what's this Greenie-"

  
Newt cuts me off. "Alby wants you Emmy. Now."

I whirl around. His face is dead serious. "Why? Is something wrong?"

  
"You'll see, come on." and with that, he turned around and ran back off to the Box.

Frowning, I grabbed a role of bandages. As I run, I stuffed them in my pockets. I might not need them, but I _was_ a one of the three Med-Jacks.  
When I arrived at the Box, I had to push some of the boys out of my way. I was so small they couldn't see me. "Alby!" I called out.

  
He was standing over the Box, looking down. A scowl on his face. Newt was at his side. How he got here so fast before me with his limp, I have no idea. I was too far away to see what they were looking at at.

  
"Alby!" I called out again. This time he looked up. His eyes quickly found him. He waved his arm, signaling me to come over. Then Alby glared at the rest of the Gladers. 

  
"I am going to say this once and one time only. Everyone back to their jobs. Now. I mean it. If I catch you hanging back, you'll be spending the night in the Slammer." His loud voice rang out, bouncing off the Maze walls. The boys grumbled, but they did as they were told.

  
By now I was right next to Alby and Newt. I had yet to look down. I was almost afraid to. The boys' grim expressions were kind of freaking me out. "Okay, would someone please fill me in on what the hell is going on, because I was kind of busy." Newt glared at me, but I just rolled my eyes. I knew I was acting snotty, but I really wasn't in the mood to deal with some Greenie. 

  
"Language Emmy."

  
"Oh shut up. You hear Minho say far worse things on a daily bases."

  
Newt opened his mouth to argue back, but Alby cut him off. 

  
"Both of you, stop. I already have a headache. You too bickering aren't helping it."

  
"Again, will someone _please_ tell me why you're staring down at the Box like someone died?" It was then that I registered the small whimpering noise. My eyebrows scrunched together, and I took my first look down at the Box.

  
Inside, was a small boy with brown, curly hair. That was the first thing that I noticed about him. Then was the fact that he was pressed into one of the four corners crying, clearly scared out of his mind. The next thing I noticed about him, was how young he was. Definitely younger than any of the other boys here. Maybe even younger than me.

I stared at Alby. "Explain. Now." I practically growled. 

  
He sighed. "The Shank was like this when we opened up the Box. We can't get him to come up. He's just been crying in the corner this whole time." His voice had an edge to it. If I didn't know him so well, I would think he was angry, but that was just how Alby sounded.

  
I resisted the urge to roll my eyes again. It amazed me how stupid they could be at times. Of course the poor boy refused to climb up the rope ladder. He was clearly scared out of his mind. I didn't blame him. Waking up with no memories in a dark box, then to be surrounded by fifty or so boys, not fun.

  
"Well, what do you need me for? Like I said, I'm busy." 

  
Alby made an exasperated sound in the back of his throat. "I want you to go down there and try to get him to come up."

  
I stared at him. My mouth hanging open. "Come again?"

  
Finally Alby tore his gaze away to stare at me. "I know you're not hard of hearing. I _said_ , I want you to go down there and try to get him to come up."

  
I turned to Newt. "And you're okay with this?" I'm shouting by now.

  
"We can't just leave him in the Box Emmy. It won't go back down. Besides, you're our best bet."

  
I glared at both of them. "What's that supposed to mean?" I asked in a deadly low voice.

  
"It means you're the closest to his age." Newt replied. "Not to mention, aren't women supposed to have some sort of motherly instinct?"

  
"Oh, so this is because I'm a girl? Wow, Newt. I never took you as a sexist."

  
"Would you two shut up!" Alby was glowering at both of us. "Emily, in case you haven't noticed, none of the boys here, are particularly gentle. This stupid Shank is scared silly, I'm trying to go with the option that won't make things worse."

  
I rolled my eyes. "Fine. I'll go down there, but if he turns out to be a psychotic maniac who kills me because the whole helpless, scared thing is an act, remember that I am now dead due to you."

  
I hear Alby scoff and I'm about to jump down when I feel someone grab my arm. I turn, and am face to face with Newt. "You know what- on second thought maybe we should send down someone else."

  
"Oh my gosh Newt! I was kidding. Jeez!" I pull myself out of his grip, shove his shoulder, then hop down into the Box. I land on my feet and look up at the two boys above me. Both of them stand with their legs spread and their arms crossed. I resisted the urge to make a crude gesture at them. Instead, I turn my attention to the kid crying in the corner.

  
"Hello," I do my best to keep my voice as gentle as possible. 

  
When he hears my voice, his head shoots up. He has blue eyes. At least I think they're blue, right now they're more red from crying. A bit on the pudgy side too, like he still hasn't lost all of his baby fat.

  
I raise my hands in front of me, my palms up to show that I come in peace. I hear Newt snort above me. My hands drop and I glare up at him. "You know, this would be a lot easier if you two would go away instead of standing there like vultures." 

  
Alby shook his head, but he whispered something to Newt, and they walked off. I sigh and try again. "What's your name?" The kid just stared at me, but at least he's stopped crying. "Okay, so you don't want to talk. My names Emily." I felt stupid. Never have I had my voice this soft and gentle. It was weird and unnatural.

  
The boy nodded. 

  
"I know that this is all new and strange, but trust me, we aren't going to hurt you." Again, a nod. "This place is called the Glade. The people here, we call ourselves the Gladers."

  
"I can't remember anything. Why?" His voice takes her by surprise. It was raw from crying, but it was almost the same as mine- except in a boy version. It also seemed familiar. In fact, everything about the kid seemed to give me deja-vu, but that was stupid. I dismiss the thought as simply a trick of my imagination.

  
"Yeah, that's normal not to remember anything other than your name. That was how it was for everyone here."

  
"Does it ever get better?"

Something in the way he said it made me falter. I couldn't explain it, but for some reason I felt a strong pull to him. So I lied. "Yeah, yeah it get's better. It takes longer for some people, but eventually you'll start to remember. Don't mention it to anyone though, okay? The people who are still waiting for their memories are kind of sensitive about it. So it's best not to talk about it." At my words his face noticeably brightened. It made my lie worthwhile. 

  
"So, are you ready to get out of this stupid box and see the rest of the Glade?"

  
He nodded his head enthusiastically, and stood up. It was crazy how fast his mood changed. We walked over to the make-shift rope ladder. I was about to start climbing when he placed his hand on my shoulder lightly. I turned to look at him and he quickly withdrew his hand. I smiled at his shyness. It reminded me of myself when I first came to the maze. 

  
"My name is Charles." The way he said it though made it clear that he didn't like it.

  
I looked him up and down. He in no way looked like a Charles. "Charles," I said. Trying it out on my tongue. I shook my head. "Charles doesn't fit you. I think I'll call you Chuck."

He grinned, and soon, Chuck was following me up the rope ladder. I couldn't help but laugh at his expression when he say the Glade. I saw Newt and Alby over by one of the Maze entrances talking to Minho. I hadn't realized that the Runners had gotten back. They looked over us when they heard my laughter. I smiled at the two boys, and waved them over. 

  
"Guys," I said once they were close enough to hear me. "Meet Chuck."


End file.
